At night, when G is supposed to be winding down and getting sleepy, he rather gets wound up. He runs around the house in circles, screaming like a banshee. The more tired he is the more running and screaming he does. I don't get it; the more tired I get, the slower I become but I suppose that is an instance where logic plays in favor of the adult.
Last night, while we were going through the routine he tripped and hit his eye on the rail of my bed, splitting his eyelid open. There was - of course - lots of blood, which is fine on other people but when it is coming out of either of my children it totally freaks me out. I called B - who was at the gym - he seemed to think G would live until he got home. Just to be sure I called my MIL/FIL, first aid and accident-prone-children experts, who also thought that steri-strips would do the trick (and even generously offered to run out and get them for me although they were exhausted from a long day).
G spent the time between his accident and the time the dad-bulance arrived in my bed, eating popsicles (which make everything better) and watching cartoons. A real treat, in his book. Today he shows how remarkably resilient children are by commencing his running and banshee screaming antics first thing in the morning - in my opinion, far too early for such shenanigans.
He even helped himself this morning to Ovaltine. When I found that he done this, the only thing he had to say was, "I wanted some chocolate milk, mommy."